


We’re Out of Tampons

by MsMiaMimi (Mc_Mimi)



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Brucey's 1st Love, Found family and shopping, Gen, Growing Up WIth Powerful Female role models is great and everyone should do it, Is there something going on outside?, Mild Testicle Abuse, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23551729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mc_Mimi/pseuds/MsMiaMimi
Summary: They're not mother and daughter.  Friends isn't exactly right, and while the kid would insist they're equals, Harley feels protective of her little sidekick/accessory to various crimes.  Providing her personal Mini-Me with adequate shelter, sustenance, and shoplifting opportunity is easy.But call her crazy, Harley wants to be a rock too.  A firm foundation of support that teaches and celebrates all the everyday little things that make Cassandra an awesome little human-in-training.  And she's getting there, she thinks.  They're working on it.  One problem at a time.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	1. A Wednesday, After 1

The whole city was locked down. There was a virus or military crisis, some such shit all over the news. Harley barely had time to focus on that. She was in the middle of a serious parenting issue. Being a psychiatrist, she knew how important it was to adhere to regular routines to reinforce comfort in a child’s upbringing. There was school. There was after school heists. There was their daily breakfast ritual. Friday Shopping Spree. Saturday Roller Derby training. And other good and useful shit for developing a well-rounded little criminal. Harley prided herself on the fact that they sprinkled in just enough spontaneity into their everyday training and rituals that Cass didn’t even realize she was being brought up with accurate planning.

So, while the city was on lockdown, (and at the moment there’s a scrolling bar on tv giving some kind of warning about staying out of downtown, so it could be anything. It was really distracting from Tom and Jerry. And it was time for evening cartoons and a good talk about their day, so it was bothering Harley to see it scrolling away over and over and over and god knows they don’t need another interruption from that airhead president…)

“Harley are you okay?”

Harley blinks twice and remembers that it’s important for a narrator to focus on a linear story. Otherwise, it’s just words and words and shit. So, she does. And she finally gets to point and thinks out loud, “We need DVDs! They won’t have all this writing and presidential order bullshit.”

Cass sits there, at the foot of the couch and braiding little colored tufts of hair into Brucey’s mane. “But it’s important. And you don’t have any DVDs that aren’t porn. I’m not really into watching that, yet.”

“Fair point,” sighs Harley.

“And there’s a curfew. So, no Redbox. I told you not to cancel Netflix.”

“I'll put it back on when that creepy video stop playing automatically. But that’s a good point. Here,” says Harley while getting up and digging out a composition book. There’s a bunch of tits drawn on the cover, but it’s mostly empty. She tosses it to the kid, “Here ya go. Anytime you have an important point to make that I may or may not be sober enough to digest, just write it down and I’ll revisit it later.”

Cass laughs out loud and grabs a pen. She starts writing immediately. And very quickly. She’s smiling and flipping pages. A few minutes go by and Cass laughs again.

“Hey!” Harley feels a little kicked, “I’m still sober!”

“You implied at any time. May or may not be sober. And I can’t tell the difference. You’re always crazy.”

“Well, what the fuck!? You’ve got pages and pages already?!”

“You forget a lot!”

“I do not!” Harley snatches up the book and flips through it, “I remember this. And this. And that.”

Cass gives her a _look_ , “Can you even read that?”

Such a little smartass, thinks Harley. “I got this! Chicken scrawl isn’t indecipherable! See here, ‘Get Bruce a comfortable harness.’ See I like that one. I mean its good thinking. I don’t like to tie him down, but who knows. Maybe we’ll need it one day. And this one! ‘Give Doc back his bird.’ I mean yeah, he’s been on good behavior lately. And Brucey does hate the 3am squeaking.” She flips the page and her eyes go wide. “What the fuck kid?!”

Cass laughs, “What now? I didn’t hurt your feelings or something…” Her face falls with concern. “Nothing in there is that serious, Harley.”

Of course with Harley sitting there staring wide-eyed and mind-blown, the kid starts getting twitchy. Harley sighs and shoves the book forward, “Buy comfortable Kotex pads!!”

Cass rolls her eyes. “Seriously?”

Harley gasps and clutches her chest. She feels faint and falls backward over the arm of the sofa in dramatic fashion. Then for the drama of it all pokes her head up and eyes wet with one arm outstretched, “My baby!”

Cass blushes but tries to hide with another flippant guffaw. The little shit. “Please, lady. I ain’t no baby. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal??” Harley lurches forward and cries out. “You’re a little woman now! This has to be celebrated!” She stands up and points a finger at the little thief, “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Oh, come off it. You’re not my mom.” Cass gets up and picks up the book, “We’re partners in crime. We’re associates. We’re roommates…”

“We’re besties!” Harley ignores all the wall building Cass is trying to put up since it’s all false bravado stemming from her childhood trauma and neglect. She grabs the little girl and wraps her up in a tight hug. “We’re B.F.F.E.I.N.P!”

“I don’t wanna ask…”

“Best Friends Forever, Even In Prison!” She gives Cass a little shake. “And how am I supposed to know when to resupply if I don’t know your cycle, huh?”

Cass shrugs, “It’s just weird. I didn’t really like tampons.” She looks down at the floor awkwardly, “And I had to steal some stuff. And the only thing in the place was like some big ass pad. They're super uncomfortable.”

Harley draws a complete blank until she remembers that one week she was on serious recovery, like hardly walking, sneeze and you pee a little. It was prudent to stock up on some discreet but effective overnight protection. She looks down at her little hellraiser and nods knowingly. Then a little light goes off, “Wait am I out everything?”

Cass shrugs again because that’s just what teenagers do in answer to everything. “Whatever. We’re out of normal pads and tampons. No big deal.”

Harley refuses to let the issue lie. Nevermind that she didn’t notice the natural phasing of her personal mascot into the glory of monthly organ-shedding and inexplicable fits of anger. Or crying. A phase that she’ll get to live with for another forty, fifty, maybe even sixty years! Harley gets her gun and grabs a face mask, just in case. “Stay here, kiddo. I’m going shopping.” She cocks the gun and kicks the door down to leave with a sparkly flourish. 

Cass calls out from the doorway, “Damn it, Harley! I’m getting tired of having to nail this door back up!”


	2. Probably Still Wednesday

The universe is vast and wonderous. And in it, there is a little blue marble spinning crazy fast around a big ass ball of hot gas. And on the beautiful marble, there is a little dollar store on the corner of Grundy Street. And on the floor of that store, somewhere under the surprisingly empty paper goods aisle, is one Harleen Quinzel, Ph. D. She looks up at the stars spinning over her, a couple of little bluebirds tweeting, and thinks, _“…this it. I am finally a cartoon. Happy Day!”_

She feels herself being hauled up from the nice cold, sticky floor and slammed against a shelf. The stars clear up and everything starts coming into focus. Especially the sense that she was royally whacked. Her first words aloud are, “Am I bleeding?”

“She’s alive. Cuff her.”

“What?” Harley tries harder to focus even with the little guy in front of her talking with nine mouths and twelve freaky big eyes. And dimples? Really cute fucking dimples. She squints until she gets a clear picture, her aching head finally easing up. “Ah shit, really? Little Piggy?”

Renee smiles but uses her older-lady-super grip to flip Harley around and starts cuffing her. “Yeah, it's me. We’re patrolling for looters. And guess what you were doing, wiseass.”

Harley laughs because it’s funny. This whole thing is really ridiculous. It’s not like she bought any cash, and yes, she did intend to rob the place, but it was _already_ being rob. Yet her former cohort, and her _favorite_ little piggy, focused her attention on Harley. “Are we dating or something? I feel like this is one-sided.” She’s flipped back around and smirks, “But it’s just my kind of kinky. Tie me up, tie me down.”

“Oh, shut up.” Renee flicks her on the nose. “And by the way, I’m not the one that knocked your screw loose. This is just a precaution.” 

“Yeah huh, flirt. Flirt. Flirt. God, you’re beautiful when you smile.” Renee actually giggles and it’s a delightfully wonderous thing that almost makes Harley forget her headache. She holds off on revealing the fact that she’s out of the cuffs to keep teasing. “Wanna go back to my place and watch dirty cartoons?”

Renee rolls her eyes. She’s wearing a crooked smile that says she is not interested but she’s flattered. Harley respects that. Still. Her head hurts. Renee whistles. And fuck is it loud. “She’s not up to anything. Just out shopping, huh?”

Huntress (as Helena insists to be called such, and Harley respects that) comes around the carrying a large bat. Part of Harley wants the bat for herself. The other part screams, “What the fuck Hunty! Did you try and cave my skull in?”

Huntress shrugs, “I was already chasing a guy in here. You got in the way. Sorry.”

“Oh,” nods Harley. “Then this is all a misunderstanding.” She brings up her hands and reveals her wrists are free while Renee gapes like a fish. “I’ll just be on my merry way.” She starts to leave when she remembers, she had a mission. A very important mission. “Ah fuck! We’re out of tampons!”

Renee and Huntress make the same kind of confused face, all scrunched up and clearly questioning Harley’s sanity. She’s used to that, but she doesn’t have time for it.

“I gotta get home. See, it’s Cassy. It’s her first… ya know! She’s a little woman now!” She moves a little too fast and everything tilts sideways. Luckily someone with big strong arms and smelling like fresh cut flowers catches her and holds her up. She looks up at her savior and smiles, “Pretty Singer Woman!”

“Is she drunk off her ass?” Dinah’s arms give her a little shake, but she doesn’t let Harley fall. Instead, she walks Harley up to a cart and lets her lean on it. “Hey, your head is bleeding!” She grabs a few rags from a shelf and pats Harley's head. “Fuck, did those looters get to you?”

Renee coughs and Huntress tries to hide the bat behind her back. Harley can’t help herself and milks the attention, “I was brutalized! In broad daylight, even! Minding my own business, shopping for Cassikins—Oh! I gotta get the tampons and shit!” She decides to climb up into the cart and sits down with her back to the badass gang of do-gooders. She points, like a captain at sea. “Onward! To the sanitary napkins and feminine hygiene products!”

Dinah moves to the side and blinks, “Are you for real?” She looks up at the others, “Is she for real?” She pauses and frowns, “Damn it, Huntress. Some time you gotta check those issues, babe.”

“I don’t have issues!” The bat clatters to the ground and Harley flinches, just for the hell of it. 

Dinah pats her on the shoulder. Mission accomplished, thinks Harley. She moans, “Oh my poor parietal! It’s all caved in. I’m all concuss-ed! Whatever will I do? Who will find Babygirl her first pads now?”

“Oh shut up, clown.” Renee walks out in front while Dinah pushes and huntress follows. All of them heading for the aisle that's between party goods and over-the-counter medicines. She frowns, “When I was that age, I only wore pads. Are you sure she doesn’t want some of those cute little ones?” She grabs a packs of Kotex then one of Always and throws them both in the cart with Harley. “Everyone can’t wear them damn q-tips sticks comfortably, you know.”

Dinah nods while looking around, “Oh what about pantyliners? She’s can’t be into thongs, yet right?” She holds up a box of thong liners and all of the women laugh at the same time.

Huntress chortles and snorts, “You dweebs. Get the tiniest, pearliest applicator. Trust me. She’s a sporty kid. It’s easier to get shit done.”

Renee makes a face that says she clearly doesn’t agree. But before they can get into barking back and forth, there’s a loud crash at the front of the store. 

Harley strains to look back, and Dinah swings the cart around. “The fuck is that?”

Huntress is first to the end of the aisle and screams, “Molotovs!!”

All the women scramble to get down as fire erupts from the selves. Harley clutches the boxes still in her lap while Dinah pushes her to safety a few aisles over. They regroup while the new customers break into the store, screaming and laughing and throwing goddamn bottles. 

“Yoohoo! Anyone home? Harleen? We know you’re in here, girl. We got a favor to ask you.”

The do-gooders all look at Harley for answers. But she’s hasn't got a single clue. She shrugs, “I swear, I was just out to steal normal stuff. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Then suddenly there’s a familiar squeal and the men all laugh. Harley feels her stomach fall to the fucking floor, but she has to get up. “Cass?”

There’s the squealing and crying again. Then someone yells ‘ow’, and there’s sudden laughter. Cass calls out, “That’s what you get for putting your hand in my face, asshole!”

Huntress and Renee reload their guns and give Harley a nod while Dinah helps her step out of the cart. Huntress picks up the bat and wordlessly hands it to Harley.

The bat feels good. It's heavy and balanced exactly right. _No wonder her head is pounding_. Harley grins while giving it a little test swing. When they’re done here, they’re stocking up on the rest of the Period Essentials. Like chocolate, Midol, and ice cream. Harley hopes the idiots haven’t melted it with their fires. In fact, she makes up her mind right there. She’ll kill them all if the ice cream is gone. “Coming, Cass.”


	3. Wednesday is such a weird looking word.  Wed-nes-day?  We don’t even say it like that

When strutting up to a bunch of D-class players, there are rules. You tone it down for the minor league goons, maybe not kill everyone and everything. But. There are exceptions. Like when the goons have the nerve to kidnap your personal mascot _and_ your sweet baby. And the ice cream. Harley has not forgotten about the ice cream.

There are only nine guys (probably all sharing one brain cell) and they drove their big ass truck into the front of the store. There is even one guy all smashed up on the floor (probably from not wearing his damn seatbelt.) Harley sighs, “Is that who I think it is?” She points at the back of the goon’s truck where Brucey is snarling inside a kit kennel that two sizes too small. “Tell me you found some random hyena in the streets. Cause I know that’s not who I think it is.”

“Stop yacking, bitch! Get your ass over here before we melt your face off!” Harley takes in the sight of the guy using the brain cell, and he is only a little taller than Cass, and trying his darndest to look tall. He’s sporting very obvious lifts and his greasy hair is piled up in an uninspired fauxhawk. He tosses an unlit bottle to one of his low-level pals while grabbing Cass by the hair.

Harley’s lip curl, “Let him out of that fucking cage! He has better things to do today!”

Cass wheezes, “Priorities!”

Harley rolls her eyes, “You’re fine, kiddo.” She sees Montoya sneaking up to the truck after coming around from the back of the shop. And she knows Dinah is right behind her in the aisles. “Your fairy godmothers won’t let anything happen to you. You know that.”

Cass visibly relaxes. She even smiles, “Sweet. Can I watch?”

Harley shakes her finger, “Too much violence can overstimulate the part of your little noodle that processes pain and grief. You’d get them all mixed up and not handle shit right. Best you do not take in their upcoming trauma and duck somewhere.”

The little guy laughs, “What the fuck are you are talking about?” He gives Cass another shake and pulls her close, pointing a switchblade at her belly. “I’m not fucking around here, Quinn! I’ve got orders from Mr. Daggett to drag your old ass in! Fall in line or watch the kid bleed out!”

Harley shrugs and answers him by throwing the bat at his face. He collapses and his head makes a loud smack when it bounces on the floor. Cass laughs nervously but immediately turns to start kicking the fallen guy repeatedly in the balls. The other goons looked shocked by her manic glee and Harley decides to help them. “This is where you all, you know, attack. Move or something. This place is on fire and he is not happy.” She points to where Montoya has climbed her cute little ass up into the truck. The ex-cop grins before letting Brucey loose. Harley grins back at her, “Careful, Piggy, he likes bacon!”

Brucey seems thankful enough to not turn back on his delicious-looking rescuer. Instead he hops down from the truck and stalks a couple of the goons while laughing.

On the other side, Huntress appears out of nowhere and grabs the kid. She ducks and rolls them to safety, hiding the kid behind the cashier counter near the door. “Get outside to Montoya. We got this!”

Everything is wrapped up nicely. Harley walks over to the fallen bat and picks it up, “So. Are we playing or are you going to run away screaming?”

One goon wakes up from his shock and rushes her. Suddenly, there's movement everywhere. The guys in the corner with Brucey are screaming over his laughing barks. Montoya is kicking the ass of who was probably the goon driver. Huntress backs in after getting the kid outside and kicks a couple of guys around with some flashy moves that are strangely efficient.

Dinah is helpful enough to call for everyone to wrap things up. “Guys, come on!” She grabs a plastic bag and fills them with the goods Harley had in the cart. “There’s no reason to stick around here.”

The others seem to agree. The shop’s sprinklers have started and Brucey is dragging the remains of one guy back out the broken window while her gal-pals all cry out about it being disgusting.

Everyone has already moved on from the d-list performance. But not Harley. She takes the bat and whacks a guy in the leg before dragging him by his hair to the busted window. She holds the bat under his chin, “Who’s a Dogbert and why the fuck is it looking for me?”

“The Millionaire! He wants you… as a doctor or something. The pandemic…”

“The what?”

The goon frowns, “Really?”

Harley shrugs, “It’s none of my business.” She bops him over the head and slumps over like he's giving up on the waking world. She whistles thinking Brucey might run over but he doesn’t.

To her shock, he’s giving bloody kisses and snuggles to Montoya. “Hey! What the fuck?!”

The dimpled little man-stealer shrugs, “I think it likes me?”

Harley wants to be jealous but her Baby deserves good things. And good things is apparently trying to hump Montoya’s leg. She screams and smacks it on the nose and Brucey doesn’t snap ore bite, but sits there with a dopey look on his face that makes Harley strangely proud. “Oh, my sweet baby.”

Montoya is no longer amused. She throws up her hands, “I’m out of here! Go home, Harley! And keep this kid out of the street!”

“Wait,” says Dinah. “Did you hear what that asshole in there said? Daggett wants Harley. We can’t let them go.”

“Oh, shit,” says Huntress. “It figures. We’re watching the bastard for a month, and you fall into his orbit without even trying.”

Harley blinks while trying to connect the dots. But she doesn’t see it. “I’m missing something.”

“Duh,” says everyone else. The bunch of assholes.

“Hey!” Cass interrupts to grab the bag. She pouts, “I don’t like these. Can we go somewhere else?”

Huntress cocks her head, “Daggett has an office under that drugstore, don’t he? Let’s go shop there.” She hops into the truck and the others follow her. 

Montoya climbs into he cab and opens the window to shout, “If you’re coming, keep that kid out of this. We should drop her off somewhere safe.”

Dinah sits across from Harley and Cass in the back of the pickup while Brucey climbs up and sits in her lap. He keeps his goofy smile aimed at Montoya. Harley pets him, “She’s never gonna put out if you don’t be sweeter, babe.”

“Gross!” Montoya shouts from the cab, “Don’t encourage that shit!”

“Just give him a leg up!”

“Shut up, Quinn!”

“Harley,” groans Cass. “I’m hungry. Can we get something to eat? I want ice cream.”

Harley wraps her arms around the kid and gives her hug. She ignores Cass’s struggle to break free of the love and support and kisses the kid on the head. “My little nutcracker! We’ll get you plenty of the really good stuff! Just you wait!”


End file.
